


One Day, One Hundred Years

by bathsheba78 (78bathsheba)



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, The Sandman
Genre: F/M, Tumblr: promptsinpanem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-16 00:33:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/78bathsheba/pseuds/bathsheba78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Day 2 of Prompts in Panem: Other Worlds.</p>
<p>Every one hundred years, Death spends one day mortal. On this day, she meets one very special--and familiar--young man.</p>
<p>Disclaimer: none of the characters are mine, though they sure did inspire me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Day, One Hundred Years

Death blinked in the sunlight that glinted off the lake, so bright it made her tender new eyes hurt. She gathered herself up slowly off the rough ground where she was laying on a bed of dry leaves. Her back ached and she grumbled as she stood, then caught and mentally chided herself for complaining, then stopped again and allowed herself the luxury of this small pain and the all-too-normal reaction to it. 

After all, isn't that the point? I get one day, she thought, trying not to be too grim. Death gets one day every one hundred years to walk amongst her prey--she winced inwardly--that she may never forget for one moment the impact and importance of what she did, what she was: death personified, the idea of death, more powerful than most gods. 

As if, she scowled, stretching her arms over her head and gingerly rolling her neck to get the kinks out. Huh. Where was everybody? How was she supposed to get her centennial dose of humility and humanity if there was no one around to-- 

Oh. The sight of him struck her like a ton of bricks. He was crouched at the shore of the lake, frowning down at a pebble in his hand, the same damned sunlight that had glinted off the lake now shimmering on his pale blonde lashes; lashes so long they cast spidery shadows over his ruddy cheek. 

Oh shit. Not this kid. 

\- - - 

He was not usually one to wallow, but even he had his limits. How much could one person be asked to endure? Couldn't he get just ONE break, just ONE day of rest where the world wasn't tumbling off its axis, where he wasn't asked to lose the little he had.... 

"Stop it, Peeta," he scolded himself under his breath as he stood, pulling his arm back to fling the pebble in his hand across the lake and grunting with satisfaction to see it bounce three times on the water's surface before finally sinking. 

"Nice arm." 

Peeta spun around. A girl stood a couple of yards to his right. He took a moment take her in: a tiny thing, though he could see that the bare arms defensively crossing her chest were finely muscled. She looked like she'd slept in the jeans and tank top she was wearing. He was sure of it, in fact, when he spied bits of leaves in her hair. She had smooth olive skin, long black hair in a messy braid hanging over one shoulder, and what appeared to be a small tattoo on her right eye, a curlicue under the outer edge that reminded him vaguely of an Egyptian ankh. It was kind of goth, Peeta thought, but not distractingly so. And her eyes: a clear and unusual gray that he wouldn't have thought to see with her coloring, which only made them more striking. Like gray-eyed Athena, his traitorously poetic soul blurted out internally. 

"Do you need help?" he asked politely. "It's probably not the safest thing in the world for you to be out here alone." 

Death successfully fought the urge to roll her eyes, but was unable to keep from jutting her chin out just a little. "Thanks," she said sarcastically. "But I can take care of myself." 

He shrugged, then made to turn away. Death felt a sudden pang of loss. Wasn't he even going to try to talk to her? This form she had was relatively attractive; she'd been female enough times to know that most men would probably be glad to get to know her...better. 

"I hunt!" she blurted out. Smooth. 

"What?" he asked. A furrow formed between his golden brows, and Death felt her stomach flip. She wanted to cup his face in her hands and run her thumbs over the arches of his eyebrows. Was that weird, wanting to touch his eyebrows? She wasn't sure. 

"I hunt," she repeated. "Deer. Rabbits and squirrels. With a bow and arrow. I'm good. I can take care of myself out here." That felt right. This was a hunter's body, she was sure of it. 

"Okay," he said, clearly still confused, though Death could see the beginnings of a smile on his full lips. Those lips. "I won't worry about you then. I'm Peeta. What's your name?" 

"Katniss," she said confidently. That was her name. Today. 

"Well, Katniss, I was just going to see if I could catch some fish for lunch. You're welcome to join me." He crouched back down to pick up a small, slightly worn tackle box and a large, definitely worn backpack with a sleeping bag strapped to it. 

Katniss nodded and stepped forward. Just as she reached him, he looked up at her, and a serendipitously-placed shaft of early sunlight caught him full in the face, illuminating his blue eyes, his golden hair, those stupid eyelashes, even glinting along the darker shaded stubble across his jaw. She gasped. She couldn't help it. He was just so beautiful, and the light on his face reminded her so much of that night: the fire, the screaming, his family huddled together against death. Against me, I guess, she thought with an internal shudder. His eyes had glowed then too, though it was from fear and fire, not sunlight and faint amusement. 

\--- 

Peeta didn't know what was going on; first off, he wasn’t the type to avoid his problems by running off into the woods, and generally he didn't go around inviting strangers to go fishing with him. Certainly not strange, attractive women who were vaguely--and comfortingly--familiar. 

"Do I know you? From before? Before 5 minutes ago, I mean," he asked as he stood. 

Katniss seemed to fidget a little, a few different emotions and expressions flitting quickly across her face before she apparently decided to settle on a scowl. "Noooo," she said vaguely. "Guess I just have that kind of face...?" 

Yeah right, thought Peeta. 

\--- 

He whistled and hummed (both endearingly out of tune) and chattered comfortably the entire way to his favorite fishing spot, filling the still-cool morning air with his easy banter. Katniss caught herself glancing shyly at him from time to time, amazed at his friendly demeanor. He caught her looking a couple of times, and would grin or waggle his eyebrows until she'd roll her eyes at him. 

She didn't get this boy. How was still so open and kind after everything he'd been through? Katniss has been around people since, well, since there were people to be around, but she'd never met anyone so utterly and infuriatingly GOOD. 

They'd apparently reached the spot--which, to Katniss, looked exactly like the spot they'd just left--and he left her sitting on a patch of grass while he set up some poles. "I've got some pastries in my pack if you're hungry," he called over, and Katniss realized that she was, in fact, starving. She nodded her thanks, pulled out a paper bag with Mellark's Bakery printed across it, and dug into some kind of cheese bun that was so unexpectedly good, she was unable to suppress the moan that escaped her lips. 

"I know, right?" Peeta teased as he dropped down next to her and grabbed a bun himself. "Baked them this morning. You can't beat these when they're fresh." 

"You made these?" Katniss asked incredulously, though she realized as soon as she'd said it that of course he made these--he came from a family of bakers. Who were all dead now. Ugh. 

"Yes," he intoned, puffing out his already broad chest and deepening his voice. "I am Peeta, baker extraordinaire and last scion of the Mellark cheese bun dynasty!" She laughed at him, although it broke her heart a little to see the way his smile faltered for a split second. 

"Well, Peeta," she smiled, brushing crumbs off her chin and, because she was a classy lady, only licking three of her fingers, "I can honestly say that those were the best damn cheese buns I've ever had." 

\--- 

She said my name. God my name sounds good coming out of her mouth. And she smiled. And she likes my buns (the eternal twelve year old in Peeta snickered internally at this). And...ohmyGod...she's licking her fingers. 

Whoever this girl is, Peeta decided, she's going to be the death of me. 

\--- 

They only caught a couple of fish ("I love the concept of fishing," Peeta explained sheepishly, "but the reality, not so much. I'm kind of grossed out by nightcrawlers."), but along with the leftover buns, it was enough for a hearty lunch. They spent the day companionably, talking about everything and nothing. He told her about his beloved bakery, which even now, apparently, some evil bank was trying to foreclose on. “Everyone loves the bakery,” he explained. “There’s been a Mellark’s bakery in this town pretty much since the first settlers, but it’s hard to compete against the big box stores.” He shrugged. “What can I do, though? It’s my passion.”  
He told her about his family, and the fire that claimed their lives, unafraid to talk about their death, though unwilling to be crushed by it. “I loved them all, and I wish I could have saved them,” he whispered. “But we were separated, and I couldn’t get to them. You know, this sounds crazy, but I always felt like there was a presence there, guiding them through their deaths; I swear I saw a girl in the fire. My shrink more or less told me I was crazy.” 

He told her hilarious stories about his two older brothers, and she in turn told him stories about her own six brothers and sisters, changing just enough to avoid the inevitable questions: her crazy red-headed brother “Dave” (Destruction) who had quit his job (personification of Destruction, duh) to travel the world and find himself (“Like a dirty hippie,” she declared, shaking her head); her other brother “Neil” (Dream), who had just gotten out of prison (seventy-five years in a glass ball after being trapped by a mad mage) and who was now trying to put him life together. You know, regular stuff. 

As the day wore on the sun strengthened, and the temperature started its inevitable progression from warm to hot to uncomfortable, and both Katniss and Peeta found themselves sprawled on the grass, gazing longingly at the lake. 

“All right, that’s it,” Peeta suddenly declared. “We’ve been dancing around this for hours, and I think it’s time to go for it.” He leaned towards Katniss, and her breath hitched. She was fascinated by the beads of sweat on his upper lip and the damp curls stuck to his forehead. She was intoxicated by his smell: a mixture of sweat and his own warm, uniquely masculine musk. “I, uh, yes.” Katniss licked her lips, fully prepared to be kissed. Finally. 

“Great!” he smiled brightly, stripping off his shirt. Whoa, thought Katniss. Shit just got real. “Let’s jump in the lake!” 

Oh. 

Peeta ran in ahead of her, splashing and hollering as he hit the chilly water. 

I do NOT have time for this, Katniss thought crossly. I’ve only got one day. She pulled off her shirt, unclasped her bra, shook her hair out of its braid, then unceremoniously dropped trou and walked into the water, determined. 

\--- 

Peeta’s heart almost stopped. He had literally never seen anything as beautiful as a naked Katniss walking slowly into the lake. Towards him. 

\--- 

Neither of them said a word; they just swam around each other, barely touching for several minutes: fingers brushing an arm, the long tendrils of her hair clinging to him like seaweed, his breath fanning across her cheek. 

Then they kissed. 

It happened all at once, like a switch being flipped, and suddenly they were crashing against each other. Lips against lips, tongues and teeth, hands everywhere. He cupped her bare ass, and she immediately wrapped her legs around his waist, hissing as the stiff, wet fabric of his jeans brushed against her aching folds. He groaned in response, and their kisses grew increasingly frantic. 

“I want…” Katniss moaned 

“The cave…” Peeta answered. 

They practically ran back to the shore, grabbing Peeta’s sleeping bag. “I know a place,” Peeta smiled shyly. “Well, let’s GO then,” Katniss gestured impatiently. 

Peeta laughed, grabbed her hand, and led her a short way into the woods to a small cave. “My brothers and I found this when we were kids,” he told her in a hushed voice. “This is where we would go, to hide from the world.” 

“It’s perfect,” Katniss breathed. 

They laid the sleeping bag down, and their bodies quickly followed. Katniss was already naked, and when she reached to unbuckle his belt, the sound of it sliding open was just about the sexiest thing she’d ever heard. 

“We don’t have to do this,” Peeta said quietly. 

“Yes,” Katniss snorted, “we do.” 

Their laughter rang out in the darkness. He positioned himself above her, and she trembled in anticipation. “I don’t usually do this,” Peeta admitted, almost to himself. Katniss reached up to stroke his cheek. “Neither do I,” she whispered. 

He slid into her. 

\--- 

“This..." breathed Peeta, "has been the best day of my life. And not just because of the unexpected sex, though that was pretty awesome." He grinned at Katniss, and she rolled her eyes before snuggling in closer to him. "It's just--I--I needed this, I guess." He shifted so he could get a better look at her face. "I don’t know how to say it exactly; only...I want to live as myself, despite everything in the universe that seems dead set to bring me down. I guess I just needed some time away from being me so I could get back to being myself, if that makes any sense. " It did, of course, like everything else he said, and like much of what he said, it hit almost too close to home. "I know," she murmured into his chest. "That's why I'm here too." 

"Katniss, I know this is going to sound crazy, but," Peeta expelled a breath noisily, "I really think I'm falling for you. There's just something about you. You have no idea, the effect you have."  
Katniss turned in his arms and cupped his face in her arms, running her thumbs lightly over the arches of his eyebrows. He leaned into her touch and closed his eyes. No, it wasn’t weird after all, wanting to touch his eyebrows. "I know, Peeta," she said gently. "Let's talk about it in tomorrow?" 

"Does that mean you'll be here in the morning?" Peeta teased through a barely stifled yawn. 

No, Death thought, I won't. "Always," Katniss said softly. 

She kissed him, pouring every word she didn’t have or couldn’t say into that one action, willing him to understand. They broke off, both sighing. Peeta gave her one last kiss on the top of her head, gave her a sleepy smile, and was snoring in minutes. 

Katniss didn't--wouldn't--let go. She stared at him as he slept, committing to memory every curve and plane of his face, those eyelashes, his intoxicating scent, the timbre of his voice, the way he always had the right words, the way his body fit hers so perfectly.... 

As dawn approached, she finally tore herself away. And it was almost a literal tearing; she felt the whole universe must hear her heart break to leave the young baker. She wept bitterly as she wandered into the woods, finally settling on a large, flat rock in a clearing not too far from the cave and Peeta. The sun broke over the horizon, and she grinned through her tears. How apropos, she thought, he would've loved to paint this. The thought brought on a fresh round of tears. Then she was gone. 

\--- 

Death stood over Peeta, feeling kind of awkward being an immensely powerful being again when all she really wanted to do crawl back into his sleeping bag and wake him for more sex. 

"Live the life you were meant to live, beautiful boy," she breathed over him, not bothering to hide or be silent. She didn't need to; twenty-four hours had passed and she was back to her old self again: Endless, personification of Death, sister to Destiny, Dream, Destruction, Desire, Despair, Delirium. Yadda yadda yadda. "Live your life full of love and joy. Live it full of peace, and I vow to do my best to ensure that me and mine will stay as far away as possible from you and yours. We only bring trouble, you know." 

"My lady and my sister." 

"Hey, Dream," she responded without turning. 

"It is unlike you to be so...sentimental." 

Death whirled around to give her brother a withering look. "Cut the shit, Morpheus. Don't think for one moment that just because you've cornered the market on tall, dark, and brooding that nobody else gets to be angsty."  
Dream blinked rapidly, three times, and Death smirked. From him, that was practically a comedic double take. 

"I meant no disrespect, lady. I was merely... surprised. You, eldest sister, of all the Endless are usually the practical one. “ 

"Yeah, well, I've had kind of a weird day." She sighed. She laced her arm through her brother's, and turned to start walking out of the cave and into the wood. "Do you think that I don’t understand how dangerous this could be, for me and for Peeta? It’s not every day that a boy who practically embodies light, love, and life falls in love with Death.” Or for Death to fall in love with him, a small voice in her head piped up. She sighed again. “Listen,  
Morpheus, I'm gonna need a favor. Can you make him think this was a dream? I--I don't want this haunting him...." 

Morpheus looked down into her face, his already inscrutable expression even more so than usual. "It is done, sister." 

"Great. Good. That's great." Death released a breath she didn't know she was holding. "Ok, well, I've got, um, stuff to do...." 

"Of course, lady," Dream replied formally. 

"Yeah, see you later, Morpheus." Death created a door in the air, stalked through it, and disappeared. 

Dream stood there, considering for a moment the space his normally unflappable sister had just walked through, before himself fading into mist. 

\--- 

"Peeta! Oh my God, Peeta!" 

Peeta sprung awake. "Whaaa? What? What's going on?" 

A blonde bundle slammed into him. "Where have you been?! We've been looking for you! The cops wouldn't let us report you missing for seventy-two hours since you're not a kid, but Madge and I got a search party together anyway, because--" 

"Delly, Delly, what is going on?" Peeta interrupted. 

"Peeta." Delly huffed. "Peeta Mellark. Do not do that again. You can't just run off into the woods like that. And without a cell signal!" she wailed, shaking her apparently useless phone at Peeta. "We, um, we heard about the bank, Peets, so when you disappeared, I was so worried...." 

"I'm fine Del," he grinned, rubbing her back soothingly while trying to maneuver her off his lap. "I just needed to get away for a little bit to figure out what was going on. You know me, nature boy and all."  
Delly rolled her eyes. "Well," she said as she rose. "if you hadn't disappeared like that, you would have heard the good news in person." Delly grinned as Peeta stilled, hope rising in his blue eyes. "Like, half the town showed up offering to co-sign on a loan so you can get some better equipment, which will in turn allow you to actually turn a profit, which therefore means that you get to keep the bakery!" 

Delly was literally bouncing at this point. Without thinking, Peeta grabbed her and pulled her into a kiss. She stiffened at first, then melted against Peeta, who was just as shocked as she was at what he'd done. He was also pleasantly surprised at the warmth in his chest and the tug at his groin as their kiss deepened. Huh...Delly...who would have thought? 

Delly broke off the kiss, but didn't pull away. She searched Peeta's face with wild eyes. "What--where did that come from?" she stuttered. 

"I don’t know," Peeta answered cheerfully. "All I know is that I had a great dream, even if I can't seem to remember much of it, and then my hot accountant just gave me some great news. A kiss seemed like the appropriate course of action." 

Delly smiled before tackling Peeta again. She fully agreed with this analysis. 

\--- 

Delly was wandering around outside the mouth of the cave, still hoping to pick up a stray mobile signal. Peeta couldn’t help the bemused smile plastered across his face as he packed up his things. What a weird night. He remembered fishing and swimming all day, though things got fuzzy after that. He supposed that he’d just gotten tired and crashed in the cave. And then there was that vivid dream: something about a girl, he thought, gray-eyed like Athena, maybe? I’ve been reading too much Greek mythology again, he thought with a chuckle. But he couldn’t shake it, that feeling when the dream is so strong that your body wakes before your heart, and you’re caught mourning the loss of something you never had. 

\--- 

Sixty-three years later 

"Hey, Peeta," Katniss said, suddenly hit with a wave of painful shyness. 

Peeta looked around at the somber faces around him who didn't seem to notice either the strange dark-haired girl in their midst, or the fact that Peeta was awake and sitting for the first time in days. "Am I--what the--where...Katniss?!" 

Katniss perked up considerably upon hearing him say her name. He remembered. If he remembered her, then maybe he could forgive her. 

"I thought you were a dream; nothing as good as that day by the lake could be real." He gulped. “Was that real? Is this real?" 

"Real," she said with all the gentleness this gentle man deserved, "But there's something else I have to tell you." She took a deep and utterly unnecessary breath. "My name here is Death. I'm, um, here to help you through." 

Peeta's mouth dropped, almost comically, and he spent a good couple of minutes looking back and forth between Katniss and her outstretched hand. "It was you then..." Peeta said, and hurt flared in his eyes for a moment. 

"That's why you looked so familiar. You wore a different face, then, but you were there, in the bakery. All these years, I thought I was crazy. The girl on fire--every shrink I talked to said you were 'a figment of my imagination brought about by stress.'" Katniss wanted to shrink back into herself. She'd been called a lot of thing over the millennia, but she'd never been berated by by anyone she'd loved. "You took them!" Peeta raged. "You took them, and then later you came to play with my heart!" 

"No Peeta!" Katniss cried. "No! I was there, in the fire--it's my job, it's what I am, and I won't be sorry for it. And that day at the lake...oh Peeta...I've lived longer than you could ever imagine, but that was the best day I've ever known. I don't know how or why I ended up there, and I don't know how or why it was you, because I certainly don't deserve you, but we were brought together then, and we're together now, and...." Katniss stopped. “This is real. And it’s time to go. And…I hope you’ll choose to come with me." 

“Do you...do you want to say good-bye?" she asked softly. 

Peeta turned around to the family he'd raised. They were good men and women: kind, compassionate, and all pretty good bakers. He smiled, knowing that the world was a better place with his children in it. "I love them," he said simply. "I love them all, and I took care of them, and they loved me." He turned to Katniss. "I had a good life." 

"You had the best life." Katniss agreed, squeezing his hand. "Now, you get everything else." 

"Delly...?" Peeta asked, feeling suddenly frantic, like he was about to cheat on his long-dead wife. 

"She's fine. She's happy." Katniss said soothingly, though she felt a pang of something like jealousy. She quickly stuffed it down; it was unprofessional, and she had a job to do. Hell, she was the job. But...she had to say it. "The rules don't apply anymore, Peeta," she said intensely. "You don't have to just be one thing or the other. You are not bound by, well, anything. Not anymore." 

He nodded. He understood. Death opened a door in the air, and Peeta gasped with wonder as light poured through. "Well," he said, a slow grin spreading across his face. "You coming with me, or what?" 

"I don't know..."Katniss scowled. "You gonna make me some cheese buns?" 

Peeta picked Katniss up and spun her around, delighting in being young and beautiful again, laughing as she cackled with glee. 

"Come on," Katniss said breathlessly. "I can't wait to show you my place. I just got these crazy chairs from the seventh dimension that I'm pretty sure are actually alive...." 

They made their way through the door in the air, hand in hand.

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read Neil Gaiman's "Sandman" series (or any of it's spinoffs), then please give them a try. The series was a seminal work: it changed the face of literature and introduced entire populations who would never otherwise have read comic books to the genre.
> 
> On a personal note, come be my interwebs friend!  
> bathsheba78 . tumblr . com  
> (remove spaces)


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